


Web of Lies

by Renaetay, wjjmwmsn5



Series: Of spells and awkwardness [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:46:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7097476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renaetay/pseuds/Renaetay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wjjmwmsn5/pseuds/wjjmwmsn5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly a year and a half after Merlin and Arthur's marriage, Arthur is harvesting a deep secret. He gets caught in a web of lies, but when Morgana returns to Camelot, Arthur suspects Merlin has a secret of his own. </p><p>Sequel to The Truth Will Set You Free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Could sort of be read as a standalone, but it's recommended to read the first one. The events of the first one will be in the end notes for anyone who doesn't want to read it. Don't read this one if you intend to read the first one though!

Sometimes, even seventeen months after his death, Arthur would still feel an ache in the chest knowing that Gaius wasn’t upstairs in his chambers. He couldn’t imagine how Merlin must have felt, seeing as it was his mentor who had died. 

Arthur was still affected by his father’s death, but it wasn’t easy to forget that his father wasn’t there anymore. He still felt like he needed that help, that guidance, even if his father’s guidance was often biased or wrong. He still felt like he wasn’t  _ ready _ to sit upon the throne with a crown atop his head. But he had Merlin to hold him close and tell him of the people’s loyalty to him, of their trust in him and love of him. Maybe he didn’t believe it sometimes, when he was feeling particularly insecure, when he’d just made a very tough decision, but it did help to assuage some of his fears that he was failing them. Despite the fact that the truth spell had made him admit this to himself, he never stopped feeling it. 

It wasn’t easy to get used to the fact that his dear friend and their beloved court physician, as well as their strong, steady king and his father, weren’t there anymore. He remembered a month after the men had died, not long after he and Merlin had gotten married, when he was in training and a particularly opinionated knight decided to really go at him. He hadn’t expected much of his knights that day. It was gloomy and cold, and the next day was set to be a long one for many of them assigned to help him break in some new knights that were coming in from the lower town—the first round of new knights that weren’t of noble blood. 

But then that one came up to spar, the one whose name he couldn’t even remember at this point. He had since drifted further down the ranks, drifting from Sir Leon’s group of trusted men down the line until his disobedience but not outright rebellion marked him a soldier more than a knight. He had swung his sword challengingly, and the two of them fought well. He was a good fighter, after all, probably the only reason Arthur hadn’t sent him off to find another occupation. He had managed to land a blow that tore Arthur’s skin, sent a long cut over his arm. Arthur had glared and put Sir Lancelot—who had recently returned to Camelot at that point, and had quickly become one of his best and most trusted knights—in charge of training since his first knight, Sir Leon, wasn’t available. 

He had gone up to the physician’s chambers, still decorated mostly the same from Gaius’s stay. The new physician was just as interested in knowledge and magic as Gaius had been, though she wasn’t nearly as old as he was, nor did she act anything like him. She was probably ten years older than Arthur, had been through enough wars in her lifetime of traveling that she was very experienced and well-equipped to be Camelot’s court physician. Merlin had entrusted her with Gaius’s belongings that remained in his room, and the ones that Merlin had kept to clutter up their chambers were replaced by her with all of hers. 

He had walked into the chambers and said immediately, upon not seeing anyone in the main area, “Gaius!” 

His heart had chilled over, the pain in his arm fading away to an ache in his heart. Rosina had been sympathetic. She had always been kind to him and Merlin, and the two of them got hurt more often than they really should have, so that was a good thing. She would be seeing them a lot in her time as physician. 

Nothing had brought it on this time except seeing the magic book that Merlin had kept in their chambers since the day he moved in. It was laying on the table as it often was if Merlin read through it a little the night before, always forgetting to put it back in their little bookshelf. Arthur knew that Merlin must have had it memorized by then, but he read through it anyway. Maybe to remind himself of Gaius. It had brought on a painful wave of memories, of flashbacks to carrying Gaius’s lifeless form up to his chambers, of Merlin’s face when he led him out to the main area so he could see the bodies lying on the patient bed. Of seeing his father’s empty eyes, his throat after Morgana was done with him…

They had kept an eye out for Morgana since her ridiculous, spell-urged letter had arrived. She hadn’t come yet. Arthur didn’t know if he would be able to take seeing her after all that had happened. He still cared for her, but it was obvious whatever she had felt for him before, however much she cared, had been washed away by fear, by hatred. 

It was a free day and he was allowed to lay in bed for a while. He didn’t know where Merlin had gone, maybe to talk to Gwen, or Lancelot, or Gwaine. He was alone in his room, wondering when George would bring in lunch and contemplating all of this. He realized that he might have looked rather pitiful, the clothes he was wearing for the day already dirty from training, his hair a mess as he had begun to fall asleep for a minute, and had tossed and turned. The blankets were tangled up around him. 

Merlin had spent the day wandering the castle, not having much time to do so anymore ever since he had become king consort. He stopped and talked to Gwen and Lancelot in their shared chambers—the two had recently been wed and Gwen now had her own place in the castle as the wife of one of the highest-ranking knights. She, of course, still kept her job as a maidservant. Merlin assumed that she didn't want to allow her husband to be the only one making their living. Merlin had also wandered through the courtyard, watching the citizens go about their daily lives and stopping to talk to a few of his old friends.

The sun was just beginning to set when he finally found himself back at his and Arthur’s chambers, opening the door to see a messy Arthur sprawled across the bed. Merlin smiled, taking off his jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair for George to later put away— where had that servant gone, anyway?

Merlin crawled up next to Arthur on the bed, folding his arms in front of him and resting his head on top of them. “Tired?” he whispered. Arthur did look tired, and Merlin certainly was.

Arthur nodded, smiling when his husband came in the room. He moved closer to him and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look at him eye-to-eye. He leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, his bright blue eyes a welcome relief from his boredom and melancholic thoughts. “I could use a nap,” he said softly. “Are you?” 

Merlin nodded, contently, leaning into Arthur's touch. “Very.” Although Merlin hadn't done much work that day, he had also been short on sleep from previous nights of staying up late, reading reports, or training his wizarding apprentices. In fact, he was surprised that he hadn't fallen asleep already.

Arthur smiled at him and got a little more comfortable, pulling the blankets up over himself and motioning for Merlin to get under as well. Cuddling with the extremely handsome, sweet Merlin would be just what he needed to cheer up a little after everything he’d been thinking about lately. “Tomorrow we have council,” he said quietly as he laid down and looked up at Merlin. 

“I know,” Merlin sighed. “I also have a new apprentice to start training. The first woman to seek my teachings.” Merlin chewed on the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes and resting his head against Arthur. 

“I have knight training too,” Arthur said, kissing the top of his head. He wrapped an arm around him and tugged him closer so that they were next to each other, cuddling before their nap. “Busy day tomorrow, then.” He would soak up all the Merlin time he could right now and later that night when they were going to bed, knowing that for the next few days the two of them would be too tired when they finally laid down at night to properly enjoy each other’s company. 

…

It was dark, the perfect time for whatever criminals that felt brave enough to go against Camelot to lurk around, to get themselves into trouble. The day had been a rainy one, making the streets muddy and everything seem darker. Clouds rolled in front of the moon—dark, ominous storm clouds. It was going to rain the next day. Everyone knew it, and no one was in the mood to work their schedules around a downpour. If one was going to do something illegal, that night would be the perfect night for it; none of the guards were in the mood, their boots sloshing in the mud puddles. Winter was leaving earlier than normal, which would be a cause for celebration if the incoming spring didn’t promise to be such a wet one. At least it was better than a drought. 

Arthur could see the night clearly, that night a few weeks ago, at the beginning of the month. It had still been a bit chilly. Those details were exact. They were unmovable, indisputable. 

Things began to get hazy, fuzzy. Like there was a layer of sheer cloth laid over things, just barely blocking things out but enough to be irritating. 

Arthur felt like he could move even though he couldn’t. He was trapped, stuck in one place, carried along as if he was riding the wind. A knock at his door. Sir Leon’s voice. Walking through the halls. The back of a man’s head. 

Things cleared up again, just a little. The man’s hair was dark, not as dark as Merlin’s. Brown, not black. He wouldn’t turn around. Someone was commanding him to turn around. It was supposed to be him but it didn’t sound like him. He wouldn’t turn around. He felt his feet moving but he also felt himself drifting forward, both at the same time in a way that was frustrating, impossible.  _ Turn around now or I’ll run you through, _ someone’s voice commanded. His? No. He  _ wouldn’t turn around. _

A flash of gold. Bright, familiar, alive. Leon was on the ground. Arthur couldn’t move. He was in the air, on the ground.

His sword was bloody the next time he looked at it.

…

Arthur woke up with a start. This wasn’t the first time he had had that exact nightmare, but it was the most vivid. 

He looked at Merlin and, finding him still asleep, settled down. He all but prayed that if he fell back asleep, he wouldn’t dream of that again.

… 

The next day after breakfast, Arthur got ready for council, letting Merlin dress him and kissing him a bit before it was time to go. He took his hand, glad that they could hold hands in public. It had been over a year, but he was still unused to it sometimes. He still felt like people were going to say something, but they rarely ever did anymore, and if they did, it wasn’t anything the two of them couldn’t handle. 

He led Merlin into the council chambers and sat down at the table, the round table they had gotten not that long ago. He loved it, having hated being at the head of the table at council before. This felt more equal. It felt like it stood for all that Arthur believed in. 

He looked over at Merlin and waited for the rest of the councilors to arrive. 

He showed no signs of having the nightmare the night before. 

Merlin took his spot next to Arthur as the councilors slowly filled the chairs around them. Merlin was used to attending these types of meetings by now, of course, but he still enjoyed seeing all of the people that looked up to him. He never really thought he would get this life when he was a servant, but the thing he was most happy about was that he had this life  _ with Arthur. _ He smiled at his husband sitting next to him, wondering how he had ever survived before this.

Once all of the chairs around the table were filled, Arthur stood to begin the council meeting. There had been an influx of crime lately, a stream of people getting braver and braver, more willing to stand up to Arthur and his decisions. “The two items I wish to bring up today are the matters of the loss of some of our food storage to thieves and the attacking of people suspected to be sorcerers in the lower town,” he announced.

The knights stared, patiently waiting for Arthur to continue. Merlin cleared his throat, gaining their attention. 

“It is our job to protect  _ all  _ of our citizens. We need to get our people to understand that there will be consequences for such actions. If anyone is seen attacking someone else, sorcerer or not, they need to be arrested and brought to Arthur and I immediately for trial.” Merlin was beginning to get the hang of leadership. He felt the need to protect his people, because when Camelot was peaceful, it meant Arthur was happy.

Arthur nodded in agreement, looking over at Merlin and giving him a small, brief smile. He often added exactly what was needed to be said that Arthur hadn’t thought of, put things in the right way. He was more intelligent than Arthur often gave him credit for, something he tended to need to work on a little bit. 

“I also understand that there has been some leeway given to these people who are specifically targeting sorcerers,” Arthur said, looking over his councilors again. He pulled himself back into being professional again, knowing it was slightly inappropriate to constantly be smiling at Merlin like the lovestruck fool he was during council meetings. “These are, so far, just rumors, and I don’t know any names. But I won’t allow for that to continue.” 

A knight on the other side of the table cleared his throat—Sir Edric, Merlin believed his name was—looking at Arthur as if there was an obvious reason behind this. “Magic had been banned from Camelot for over 20 years. Many people have seen its evil, and don't agree with it being legal. You can't blame people for opposing the law… and your  _ consort _ . Perhaps we should try to come up with some middle ground.”

Arthur looked at him, retaining his composure despite how annoyed he got with people thinking that they could just blatantly disrespect Merlin—their  _ king _ , even if he was a king-consort and used to be a peasant—right in front of him. Or at all, for that matter. 

“Sir Edric,” Arthur began, deciding that he needed to be made an example of so no other councilors got any special ideas about speaking against the kings anymore. “There is no ‘middle ground.’ There is only equality and injustice.” 

Arthur, of all people, should know this. He was, after all, a huge hypocrite. Even as he lectured Sir Edric, he knew that he almost had no right to say any of this because of the things he’d done in the past. He felt some of his resolve fading and he hoped Merlin would step in to speak his mind rather than let him continue to flounder. 

“If we allow these people to be targeted, we go against everything I believe in as a king, and everything that the rest of the people in this kingdom deserve,” he said firmly.

“People, Your Majesty, or sorcerers?” Sir Edric said, challengingly. “And it's obvious that your…  _ beliefs _ are not exactly traditional.” He gestured towards Merlin. “Or natural, for that matter.”

Arthur’s gaze on Sir Edric turned steely, full of anger. “I will  _ not _ tolerate for these things to be said against us,” he said, his voice quieter, though no less scary than before. For someone like Sir Edric, who he had  _ personally _ trained and promoted to the council, to outright say that Arthur couldn’t be with the love of his life because it was  _ “unnatural” _ ? “I think you forget which of the two of us can strip the other of his title,  _ sir knight. _ ” 

The room went silent, and Merlin turned towards Arthur. It was rare that he ever saw his husband so  _ angry _ , and Merlin hated it. When he became consort, he always knew that eventually someone would speak out against it. It was untraditional, after all. But Merlin hadn't expected to see Arthur's face turn to stone like that—the same way it had when he learned what Morgana had done, actually. 

Merlin cleared his throat. “Sir Edric, I understand that you are accustomed to certain traditions and norms, but this is way things are. I hope you understand that it is considered treason to speak out against the king like that, and doing so in the future will lead to punishment. Maybe even, as Arthur said, losing your title.” Merlin, unlike Arthur, remained calm. Even though he did feel offended and hurt to hear those things, he knew better than to let it show on the surface.

After a minute, it was obvious that Sir Edric had nothing else to say. Merlin nodded, content, and looked back to Arthur. “We were discussing the violence in the lower towns, correct?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between this chapter and the last! We got sidetracked outlining the story

Guinevere had never had a time as happy as this recent year. A few months prior, she had married the love of her life after he finally returned to Camelot and became the knight that he deserved to be, moving quickly up the ranks because he earned it. She held no regrets over never seeing the relationship between her and Arthur grow, knowing that that had been for the best. Arthur was meant for Merlin, and she was meant for Lancelot. 

She had always thought that getting married to a knight would be so unsatisfying. The idea of holding no purpose but to mother children and keep a husband happy had never served her well. She had always enjoyed watching her father work, had envied her brother for being able to learn the art of blacksmithing. But being a servant was good work. It kept her busy and many of the other servants were her friends. It kept her from feeling useless, from feeling like her only purpose was to have children that she wasn’t even ready to have until recently. 

Keeping the job as servant hadn’t been easy. Lancelot had said that a lady as fair as her had no place working if she didn’t have to, that she had every right from all she had done already to simply allow herself to be a knight’s wife. But he had understood when she explained her reasoning behind it, had agreed that she shouldn’t be made to feel like she was only good for the use of bearing children. It had been Arthur that was hard to convince. He was stubborn even if he was a good man, and had seen sense eventually, even if he thought the idea too unorthodox to entertain at first. 

It had mostly only taken a stern look from both her and Merlin, and for the two of them to remind him that nothing between the two of them was exactly  _ orthodox.  _ Gwen was pretty sure he’d do anything for Merlin. 

She was glad for it, but was even more glad for being able to be with Lancelot. The death of Uther Pendragon, for her, had been the loss of a dear friend, of her mistress, but it had also been the gaining of a husband, a best friend. King Uther had never meant anything to her but the killer of her father, the oppressor of many. His death never had any real value to her. 

Now it was her day off, something she was able to afford a lot more lately but that she often didn’t like to go through with. Many of the servants suddenly resented her for her rise in status already. But Lancelot had nothing to do either, and she hadn’t seen him much lately since he had been leading a lot of the training. With Arthur off to be king and Leon doing a lot of strategizing with Arthur, being the actual first knight, Lancelot was to take up many of the duties the two of them left behind, serving as a second knight of sorts almost. 

The two of them had planned to laze around all day, take a ride out to the woods perhaps. Gwen was just waiting for the perfect time to talk to Lancelot, really talk for a moment. 

Breakfast was brought up to them not long after they woke up together, Gwen having just finished dressing behind the shade when the servant sat the food down at the table. Gwen thanked her and she left. 

“What should we do after breakfast?” she asked, looking over at her husband as she sat down at their table. 

Lancelot had been away from Camelot for four years, and he didn't go a single day without thinking about Guinevere. He had seen that Arthur had feelings for her, and no matter how badly he wanted to, it wasn't noble to come between the prince and the woman he loved. However, he soon learned that Arthur's feelings for Gwen had been very short-lived, and the prince had found another love. Even though he knew that that had to have hurt Gwen, it meant that Lancelot could be with the love of his life.

Lancelot returned to Camelot nearly a year ago, and it was not long before he was granted a knightship. Within a matter of weeks, he managed to work his way up to the top. He was already very close with both of the kings on a personal level, and because he had spent his entire life training himself, his swordsman skills were beyond exceptional. He was even allowed to train the new-coming knights, like Gwaine, Percival, and even Gwen’s brother, Elyan. 

He was quite proud of his title. He had been working for it for as long as he could remember, and now he had Guinevere by his side. She was a serving girl, yes, but beyond that, she was strong-minded, brave, and not to mention, exceptionally beautiful. Many of the knights were jealous, Lancelot believed, especially Gwaine, who had always had an eye for her.

Lancelot smiled upon hearing Gwen’s voice, looking up at her. 

“I have some knights to train this morning,” he said, sitting down across from her, “but after that, I'm all yours.”

“Okay,” she said softly, leaning over to press a kiss to Lancelot’s cheek. “Can we go for a walk when you’re done? I want to talk to you.” 

Lancelot takes her hand from across the table. “Of course we can.”

 

…

 

Merlin’s new apprentice was already quite good. In fact, she was so good that Merlin wasn’t even sure what he was able to teach her. She had already seemingly perfected potion making, healing magic, and all of the little show-tricks that he usually started out with. He eventually decided on just having her read over the protection and war sections of his magic books, every once in a while having her demonstrate what she'd read. 

He wasn’t disappointed that she was already so talented, of course. It would mean for much better protection of Camelot when the time came. He was just—  _ bored _ . Not very many sorcerers were seeking to be Merlin’s apprentice and help  the kingdom. He supposed that all of the magic users who were powerful enough were still in hiding somewhere, still not ready to reveal themselves after so many years in hiding.

Elaine was actually the first remarkably powerful sorceress that Merlin had come across since the ban was lifted. He would be honored if he were able to teach her  _ anything _ , and judging by the way she was absorbed in those books, it looked like maybe he could.

Elaine was a stunning woman. She had shiny, straight blond hair that she kept pulled back in a braided-bun. Her eyes were a dark shade of green—when she wasn't using magic, of course—and she was almost Merlin’s height. She had been raised in a far-off kingdom where magic had always been legal, so she had been able to practice it freely her entire life, aided by two parents who both possessed the same gifts. Her mother and father only recently passed away, leaving Elaine to search for some kind of higher purpose for her life. At least, that was the story she told Merlin when she arrived in Camelot.

 

…

 

Merlin kicked off his boots when he arrived in his chambers that night, tired after having spent the day “training” Elaine. The state of his and Arthur’s room was becoming worse and worse—their laundry hadn't been retrieved in nearly a week, so it was just in a pile on the floor, dust was gathering on the furniture and the windowsill on which they didn’t often sit, and there was a pile of empty food trays stacked on their table, food of which Merlin had actually had to retrieve himself. Merlin sighed after he finished changing into his nightclothes. He sat at the foot of the bed, where Arthur appeared to be sleeping. It would be a shame if they had to fire George; he was usually so efficient.

Merlin hadn't seen George in some days, now that he thought about it. Not only was he not showing up to work, but he wasn't wandering the halls of the castle, or even sitting on the steps to read like he so often enjoyed. Merlin was actually a bit worried about him—it wasn’t like George to just leave without telling anyone. He would probably even tell them weeks in advance, even if he was just leaving for the afternoon. He made a mental note to send out a search party in the morning, before he crawled to his side of the bed and tucked himself under the covers, putting an arm around the sleeping Arthur and holding him close as he shut his eyes.

 

…

 

Words slipped around Arthur like they were slick and soaked, unable to be gripped. There were no full sentences, though he knew every word that was said, knew every detail of what was going to unfold for his eyes as he was unable to move, unable to fix anything that was to come. 

_ Sire, there’s been… _

_ Sound… send the guards…  _

Where was Merlin? Why wasn’t Merlin there? In his sleep-addled mind he had forgotten that Merlin had gone to Ealdor, accompanied by Lancelot. He would be back in two days. He had just wanted to see his mother, to see his little village. 

_ Reason to believe… magic involved…  _

He was suddenly in front of the food storage, helpless to do anything but what his legs had done a million times before in this nightmare of his. He was moving forward. His sword was at his hip but he had no chainmail on. Leon and a few guards were behind him, ready to help if he needed any of it. 

Why had Merlin so suddenly decided to go to Ealdor? Even as he was dealing with official business such as this, he remembered thinking that, remembered wondering why he hadn’t asked him sooner. There were things that needed Merlin there, things that Arthur could in theory do alone but would have preferred to do with his consort at his side. Magic was still new to Camelot. Arthur didn’t understand it, and there was a trial of a sorcerer coming up. He needed Merlin there to help. But he would deny Merlin nothing, and so he’d gone to Ealdor. 

Something about having to go. Why did Merlin have to go? Magic drawing him, did he say that? He couldn’t remember. He  _ couldn’t remember. _

But he could remember this. The man before him, with the dark brown hair. He spun around. There was gold everywhere. There was gold  _ everywhere. _

Everything from then on was a blur as it always was, but Arthur remembered. Arthur  _ remembered.  _

 

…

 

He gasped awake and looked over at his husband, who had finally come to bed. “Merlin,” he whispered, because he knew that gasping as he had and jerking so much when he woke up must have also woken Merlin. He didn’t want him to be awake, but then, he did. He wanted Merlin’s arms around him, wanted a hug before he did something stupid like cry. 

Merlin rolled onto his side to look at Arthur. “Did you have a nightmare?” he asked with concern, putting a hand on his husband’s shoulder, rubbing it.

Arthur nodded and tugged Merlin close, pulling him into a hug as he buried his face in his shoulder. He felt like a child, not wanting to go back to sleep. He just wanted to stay like this, being held. Merlin’s arms around him were an amazing relief to the fear and terrible guilt that was burning in his chest, in his stomach, in all of his being. It threatened to eat away at him until he was nothing. 

“I'm sorry I woke you,” he whispered. 

“It's alright,” Merlin whispered back. “What was it about?” The look on Arthur's face was upsetting, especially to Merlin, who hated seeing him upset. 

“It was nothing,” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of Merlin’s nightshirt. “It was just Morgana and my father.” It may have been hard to lie to Merlin normally, but when it was to protect him, to protect  _ them _ , it became far too easy. 

Merlin hugged him tighter to his chest, resting his face in Arthur's messy blond hair and closing his eyes. “It's alright now. Go back to sleep.” He planted a light kiss on Arthur's head as he felt sleep beginning to claim him again.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, when Merlin walked to the library, he found that Elaine was already there waiting for him at the corner table they usually met in. Her hair was up in her usual bun, and her face was covered by a book of magic that Merlin had assigned to her. She looked up from her book with a smile when she heard Merlin approaching, and Merlin returned it as he sat down. He had been “training” Elaine for nearly a week now, and they already formed mutual trust and respect for each other. She was very bright, the likes of which Merlin had never seen before, and very determined to learn whatever Merlin had to teach her. Merlin liked that. It told him that she had a bright future as Camelot’s defender, and as Merlin's friend.

“Are you almost finished with the chapter I bookmarked for you?” Merlin asked after he had sat down with Elaine.

Elaine nodded, setting the book down after bookmarking the place she was at. “Yes,” she said, pushing the book aside and clasping  her hands over the table. “It’s very interesting, actually. So what are we doing today?” 

“What areas do you struggle with the most?” Merlin asked her, unsure what to teach her at this point since she already knew so much. 

Elaine thought for a moment. She had mastered so many areas already. “I can never understand how to manipulate time,” she told him honestly. “I’ve heard from many that you’re experienced in stopping time?” 

Merlin thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No… not stopping time. I don't think that can be done. I can show you how to slow it down though? I find it helpful when protecting people against flying objects,” he said, leaning on his hand. “Would that be of any interest to you?”

Elaine nodded, giving Merlin an enthusiastic smile. “That would be very useful,” she said. 

Merlin reached over to close the book as he stood back up and turned around, gesturing for Elaine to follow him. “Alright then, let's go to the training grounds so you can practice.”

Elaine nodded and stood up, taking the book so that no one else who wandered into the library would innocently pick it up. 

When Merlin became court sorcerer, Arthur had him an entire magic-training-field built outside the castle, where Merlin took his trainees so they could practice his teachings. It was equipped with multiple dummies, innocent but moveable objects, and even weapons that could be enchanted to fight. It was rather large, but Merlin never trained more than one person at a time. It was simpler that way, and he could give them his full attention.

He lead Elaine to the center of the field after they dropped their things at the entrance. For time manipulation magic, Merlin set up a target, and he held multiple knives to throw at it.

“When I throw a dagger, slow down time just enough so you can push the target to safety. It may take a few tries.” Merlin took a step back, motioning for Elaine to stand near the target, but far enough to the side that she was out of harm's way.

“How, though?” she asked after nodding to his instructions. She watched the target warily. Moving things was something she’d learned and mastered as a young girl, but she really never even understood how one went about slowing time down even slightly. “When I try to create fire, I focus on any heat around me and try to transform that into a flame. Are there any words of enchantment to make slowing time any easier?”

Merlin shook his head. “You're right. It's exactly like creating fire, but instead of focusing on the heat, focus on the time. Each passing moment, try to capture it with your mind and will it to slow for you.” Merlin raised one of the daggers and sent it flying towards the target.

Elaine bit her lip but nodded, concentrating on the time passing around them, on the seconds that were creeping by so quickly. She began to feel the magic in every moment that went by and grabbed hold of one of them, pulling it back until it slowed. She couldn’t keep it going for long, though, so she didn’t manage to pull the target out very far before time sped back up and the knife hit it.

“I got it for a second,” she said, looking proudly over at Merlin. 

Merlin smiled at her and nodded in approval. “That was excellent,” he said, using magic to reposition the target in its original spot. “Let's try it a few more times.”

 

…

 

Arthur came to their chambers for dinner somewhat early that night after having gotten done with his own training early. He hoped that Merlin would finish up with Elaine so they could talk. He missed spending a lot of time with his husband lately. 

He sat at the table, pushing aside some of the plates that George still hadn’t come to pick up. He had just assumed George wouldn’t come back today either, so he had sent another servant off with the task of retrieving a meal for the kings. He assumed if Merlin came back late, he could use magic to reheat his food. 

Merlin spent the entire day training Elaine outside in the hot weather, and signs of his exhaustion were evident in his features. Sweat was trickling down his brow, and he was sure that he had gotten a rather nasty sunburn during that time. He smiled at Arthur when he finally retreated to their chambers, sitting in the seat next to his husband. He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on the dirty trays. 

There had still been no sign of George lately, even with the search party looking for him. Merlin was honestly a bit worried about the man- he didn’t really seem to be the type who could defend himself if danger came his way. Then again, what would anyone hope to achieve in harming a servant? Not that servants were worthless, Merlin understood that more than anyone, but an enemy of Camelot wouldn't gain anything from it, at least not anything Merlin could think of. Besides that, George didn’t seem like a man who would create any of his own enemies, but Merlin supposed he didn’t know him all that well, anyway.

“You spent a long time out there,” he said, smiling. He was glad that Merlin was able to do what he loved to do, even if the thought of magic right outside his castle still made him a little bit uncomfortable. He didn’t hate it anymore, but he would be lying if he said that some of his old prejudices didn’t still remain. But he was working on it. “I saw a bit of what the two of you were doing earlier. Elaine looks exceptionally skilled.” 

So many people in Camelot, it seemed, were of magic. The new physician, Rosina, used it to strengthen her medicines sometimes, although she wasn’t at the level of Elaine or Merlin—or, as Merlin said, even at the level Gaius had been at. It wasn’t yet something that many liked to admit, fearful even now of the memory his father left behind, but more than he would have thought seemed to be roaming in his city. He couldn’t imagine how many were in his entire kingdom. He wondered why they had all stayed there after the Purge, but he figured that there weren’t many kingdoms that accepted magic, and of the ones that didn’t, Camelot was the most prosperous. Nemeth was borderline, but not as big as Camelot. Essetir had no laws around it at all, but Essetir was a dark kingdom. 

Merlin nodded. “She really is. It took me by surprise, but she really won't need much training before we can make her an official magician of Camelot. I trust her not to disappoint us,” he said. 

“I trust her if you do.” Arthur looked down at their food, feeling like he was ready to curl in bed and sleep all through the night and the whole next day, foregoing his duties for the morning. “I’m tired.” He looked over at his husband, all thought of their missing servant and their growing group of sorcerers under Merlin’s training leaving him. 

Merlin bit his lip, looking back at the trays. “I think I'm going to go look with George’s search party for a few hours,” he said. “You should get some sleep, I will be back tonight.” Merlin stood up from the table, not having touched his food yet again—it was hard to eat when you were stressed or worried—and turning towards the door.

Arthur stood up as well and went toward him, grabbing his hand. “Come eat with me first,” he said, voice gentle. He could see how worried for the man the two of them saw every day but knew so little about Merlin was. “I’ll search with you after dinner.”

Merlin sighed, sitting back down to his dinner with Arthur. It was smaller than it usually was, but also a lot more luxurious than the food he had eaten as a servant. He still wasn't completely used to the fact that so much had changed so quickly. The thought was scary. This change was good, of course, but the fact that  _ everything _ could change in the blink of an eye—and the fact that it usually  _ did _ —made Merlin feel sick. What if tomorrow he no longer had Arthur? What if he lost him, just like he lost Will, and Freya… and Gaius? What if George’s absence was only the start of something big and tragic happening in their lives? Merlin suddenly  _ really  _ didn't want his food, but he started to cut at his chicken anyway.

Arthur hadn’t quite lost his appetite yet, having learned that the best thing to do in the face of an upcoming dangerous situation was to stand tall and stay strong. It was easy to lose your strength when you forgot yourself in even the most basic ways, like not sleeping or eating enough. He hadn’t been sleeping enough, but that was because the recent business—and his nightmares—wouldn’t allow him to. 

He had seen that Merlin wasn’t eating as much, too, which beyond their duties as kings was, of course, problematic. He wouldn’t watch the love of his life wither away. He was already small, and perhaps he was just built small, but it wouldn’t do for the Consort of Camelot to be skin and bones—not for their image and not for Arthur’s heart. Seeing Merlin weak made him nervous, always afraid something would happen to him. He had noticed a little less food coming up to him lately, and he knew that the kitchens were probably annoyed that so much was going to waste, but he made a note to himself to ask them to send up the same amount to both of them. 

Once he finished his dinner, Arthur pushed his plate over with the rest of the dirty ones and looked at Merlin, holding his hand out to him. “Are you ready to go?” 

“Yes,” Merlin said, pushing away what remained of his meal and standing up. “I am. But it's getting dark so we should be quick. The search party should be near the entry of the forest now, we can catch them if we hurry.”

Arthur nodded and left their chambers, rushing outside to get their horses. He had dealt with his horse enough times on his own that he could do it without a servant, though he preferred the help of George or Merlin. He mounted her and waited for his husband, looking over at him. 

The two of them rode out through the forest, Arthur leading the search party around the area. After a long time of riding around, he held up a hand, seeing tracks leading back and forth in the direction of Camelot, but not the path they’d taken. Arthur frowned, getting off his horse so he could follow the tracks more carefully. They led him to a pile of sticks and leaves badly used to hide something, like the hider had been rushed and afraid. 

“I’ve found something,” he said, knowing with a sickening feeling in his stomach that there was definitely a body there. Whether it was George’s or not, there was a badly-hidden body in front of them. He pushed aside the leaves until he found the unmistakable face of his latest servant. He let out a breath and ran a hand over his face. “It’s George.” He stood up again and looked back at the others. 

Merlin jumped off his horse and rushed to Arthur's side, his stomach twisting at the sight of his dead servant, already beginning to rot. He got down on his knees and turned the body over, inspecting it. Merlin had never been very close to George, in fact he found him quite annoying at times, but it still sickened him to see the man dead in the woods. As far as Merlin knew, George hadn't been sick, and he couldn’t think of an explanation as to why he was out in the forest in the first place. There was no way this was an accident.

When Merlin didn’t see any signs of violence, he sighed. “We need to take him to Rosina. Hopefully she can tell us what's happened to him.” He stood back up, motioning for the knights to come over and pick George up as he turned back to his horse.

Arthur nodded, letting out a breath as he bent down to close the man’s eyes. He felt horrible for letting this man out of his sight. He was supposed to protect his servants, even if George could be a bit overbearing and told far too many jokes about metals. “Did  you know of any of his family?” he asked Merlin,  looking at him rather than the body. 

Merlin shook his head. “He was very private. He never even mentioned his life outside of work.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” he said, running a hand over his face. George was too professional to get actually close to the two of them. He wouldn’t ever talk about his home life to them. “We’ll need to find them and tell them.” 

Merlin nodded in agreement before mounting his horse again. The knights secured George’s corpse on one of their horses just as Merlin was settled on his own. “I believed he lived in the lower part of the inner city,” Merlin said. “We can have some knights go door-to-door until we find something out.”

Arthur nodded, already thinking of some of his gentler knights to send. He knew that all of them would try to be caring and sympathetic, but many of them were clueless to feelings, or were too large and intimidating to do the job. He mounted his horse as well and looked over at Merlin, sighing. He began to ride back to Camelot, not wanting to think of his servant’s body slung over his knight’s horse behind him. Halfway there, he looked over at Merlin again. 

“This had to be a murder,” he said. “Why else would he be out in the woods like that? He disappeared on a work day. He wouldn’t have gone to the woods if he needed to be with us.” 

Merlin frowned. “I suspect as much, but we can't be sure until we get him to Rosina.” Merlin sped up his horse, passing Arthur and the knights as he rode for Camelot.

 

…

 

Elaine heard of the dead servant mystery, of course. She had suspected it before the body was even found, but she hadn’t been attached to the serving boy that had been killed. She did, however, know the new replacement in the royal household for the two kings. His name was Cyrus, and they had met before either of them had even arrived in the kingdom, a while ago. She knew that he had wanted to be the king’s manservant. It was an extremely honorable position in the royal household for a peasant. 

She couldn’t focus on the drama of the kingdom during training, especially not today. She should have been reading while she waited for Merlin, but he was so late. She understood, of course. He and Arthur were likely beyond busy with all their regular duties as well as dealing with their manservant’s death, but she was bored to death waiting for him. 

Merlin  _ had _ been busy lately, but that wasn't the reason he was late. With all of the drama going on, he hadn't had much  _ special  _ time with Arthur. He had sought out and hired their new manservant on his own, and, like George, he was incredibly efficient. Cyrus seemed to always be there, standing nearby in case one of the kings had a task for him. He was standing in every corner, or he was always right behind the door, listening for his name to be called. Today being the servant's first day off, Merlin finally got a minute alone with his husband, and he naturally found himself caught up in his husband’s arms—and soon in his sheets.

By the time he got out of their chambers and was rushing to meet Elaine in the library, he was disheveled and tired. He fixed his hair as he ran, eventually finding himself sat in front of Elaine. He took a breath. 

“I'm sorry I was late. Have you practiced time manipulation?”

Elaine looked up at him and nodded with a wide smile. “I have, actually,” she said. “I feel much more comfortable with it now, actually.” She pushed the book aside, glad to no longer have to read it—or pretend to at least. “Would you like me to show you?” 

Merlin gestured to the general area in between them before leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “Of course. Show me what you can do.” He wasn't surprised that Elaine had learned so quickly, only now he wasn't sure what was left to teach her. “If you've mastered it, I can make you an official magician. You would have gotten the position a lot quicker than my other apprentices, but I'm not really sure what else I could do with you.” Merlin gave her a light smile.

Elaine nodded and focused on warping the time around him. Normally she would leave Merlin out of it to show him, but instead, she included him in the slowing of time. Her eyes glowed a continual gold as she reached over for the box she’d brought with her. She knew that Merlin trusted her and there was nothing suspicious about a little box. 

Once opened, she pulled the now-hissing head of a Fomorroh out of it, extending it towards Merlin’s neck. She knew that he was powerful enough to stop her if he had time, but he didn’t. Unless his reflexes and reaction time were incredibly, incredibly strong, she was in the clear. She let the Fomorroh burrow into his neck and then let the spell in, let time return to normal. 

Merlin screeched out in pain, eyes wide as soon as he was able to move at his normal speed. His hand flew to his neck as he gave Elaine a look of betrayal, pain searing through his neck and down his back. “What have you done to me?” he asked breathlessly, feeling the foreign creature settle beneath his skin.

Elaine’s face transformed into a grin when she saw that the deed was done, that the snake had made its way into his neck. “Just a little something to make you a bit more… compliant,” she told him. “Something to make you focus on exactly what I want you to do. That’s your purpose in life now, Merlin: to do what I want you to do, to please me.” 

Merlin wanted to yell at her in disbelief, to tell her that she was insane, and order her immediate arrest. Oddly, the feeling quickly dissolved, all shock and tension fading as if it had never been there, replaced only with the desire to do exactly what Elaine had said; to please her.

After a pause, Merlin looked up at the woman. She suddenly looked so beautiful—her silky blonde hair pulled back so elegantly, with a few wavy strands falling into the fair skin of her forehead and framing her beautiful, glimmering eyes. Her lips thin and pink, forming a perfect “m” at the tip, leading magnificently to her perfectly shaped chin. Merlin smiled at her, full of lust, desire, and loyalty. “Of course, my darling. I am yours.”

She smiled at him and nodded, satisfied with his obedience. “I know exactly what you can do to make me happy first,” she said. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha ummmmmmm really sorry for the extreme delay between chapters. I (wjj) haven't really been writing as much as before, oops...

It never stopped. The memories worked his way into every moment in which he was asleep. 

That night, it started how most nights did. Arthur was in bed when Leon came to the door. Leon felt confused, but he couldn’t quite see the knight’s face. It was fuzzy, like a twisted reflection in rippling water. His lips moved but Arthur couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t matter; he had memorized the dialogue of the night, his mind supplying close enough substitutes for parts he didn’t remember in his recurring nightmare. It was slightly different each time, revealing more or less. This time, it seemed very detailed, but it was… broken. Odd. Nothing felt  _ right _ . 

Arthur followed Leon quickly, his feet moving whether he wanted them to or not. He was riding a wave, dread building in his chest. They joined other guards and burst into the food storage, where the grain bags and some other things were kept. The back of the head he was looking at was dark, the hair messy as it always was in the dreams, but this wasn’t the same man as before. He was wearing the same clothes, but it wasn’t him. 

The nightmare differed from usual. The man turned around and Arthur was staring into his husband’s eyes. They were golden, glowing, and everything in the room was spinning around the two of them in a tornado of grain and bags and everything else in the room. This wasn’t the Merlin he knew now, either. This Merlin was a little younger, skinnier. His cheekbones were more prominent, like they had been when he first met him. 

“Are you going to execute me,  _ my lord? _ ” Merlin snapped, voice sickeningly similar to how it was when they teased each other, when Merlin managed to make “my lord” sound like an insult rather than an honorific. 

Arthur’s sword was running through Merlin’s middle, and he was laughing at him as he fell to the ground. He couldn’t stop himself as he pulled his sword out of the middle. He was sobbing and begging and pleading for Merlin to be alive, but he wasn’t kneeling down next to him like he wanted to. Merlin’s eyes were gleeful, enjoying to see Arthur’s pain as he died. 

His sword was covered in blood. Merlin’s entire middle was bloody, the jacket and the shirt that weren’t his torn where the sword had slid in. 

He couldn’t breathe. He could scarcely breathe as he watched the man he loved more than anything else breathe his own very last, as he watched his eyes turn glassy and empty, as he knelt down and felt his pulse to be nonexistent. 

Arthur wanted to hold him and rock him and sob until there wasn’t a tear left in him to cry out, but instead he continued on as if it was a thief rather than his husband that he just murdered. He announced that he was dead. One of the knights carried his body to be disposed of. It was going to be covered up. It wasn’t going to be discussed. 

He dealt with it all, and he couldn’t move anywhere but where his body already wanted him to go. He didn’t get all the way to bed in the dream before he was gasping awake in real life. 

 

… 

 

Arthur knew that this couldn’t go on. He couldn’t continue to lie to Merlin like he was. They were supposed to trust each other and love each other, and if one of them did something they couldn’t live with, they were supposed to work through it together—as equals, as husbands, as friends. But instead he had bottled it up to deal with himself, afraid that Merlin would reject him for what he’d done. 

He had done worst things in the past, but that was the past. This was now, proving that he hadn’t changed completely yet. He was still the old Arthur, still the bad Arthur, still not Merlin’s Arthur. He didn’t know how angry he would be once he heard of this, or if he would be angry at all. He didn’t know  _ anything  _ except that he couldn’t bear the weight of it alone anymore. 

He was in the middle of training and he was so out of it he was surprised that one of the younger knights hadn’t yet managed to beat him in a spar with how little attention he was paying. But then, these were the really young knights who were only just learning the basics, and Arthur had to take it so easy on them that it was child’s play. This group was mostly from the lower town, anyway, and they hadn’t had the resources to be practicing from a young age. 

“Sire,” one of his eldest knights said as they came over. He held his hand up to indicate to the boy that he needed a moment. He nodded his head courteously to them and stepped away to go spar with one of the others. Arthur turned his full attention to the man, Sir Maron. “I’ve just noticed that you don’t seem fully into training today. Are you alright?”

Arthur frowned a little bit, not used to these kinds of questions. Many times, it was only those closest to him that asked him things like  _ Are you alright?  _ when he seemed out of sorts. “Yes, I’m alright,” he said, perhaps too surprised at the question to sound as grateful for the kindness as he was. He hoped that Sir Maron understood. “Thank you for your concern. My mind is elsewhere.”

Maron nodded, seeming to fully comprehend that Arthur’s mind wasn’t into training that day. He thought that he was going to do something extremely thoughtful like ask if the king needed someone to take up training for the rest of the day when he said, “Of course, my lord. I was just wondering—” And there it was.  _ I was just wondering.  _ The phrase that meant someone needed something from him, always seeming to come at the most inconvenient of times. “—if you had considered my proposal from council the other day, Your Majesty.”

Oftentimes, his knights stuck to titles like  _ my lord _ ,  _ sire _ , and sometimes  _ Your Highness _ if they were really kissing ass. But only those who were beyond kissing ass, who were at this point willing to do anything to get on his good side, used  _ Your Majesty. _ It was too formal for his knights, who he tried to keep close to. He wanted to be like family to them, because it was better to be on a battlefield with brothers than strangers, and it was certainly better to be led by someone you trusted than by someone you knew little about. 

“About…?” he asked, his voice drier than before. He wished that they would just leave him be. He was sure that if Maron had, he would have sat down that night and found the notes on whatever he was bothered with, and he would have considered whatever it was fully. 

“About granting me lordship,” he said, and he was about to go into an explanation of why he should be granted lordship, surely, but Arthur held his hand up to cut him off. 

“It will be addressed tomorrow in council,” he said, knowing that now that he had been bothered about it, he likely wouldn’t grant Sir Maron any land and promote him from Sir Maron to Lord Maron. 

The knight nodded and bowed his head respectfully, apparently assuming that Arthur meant that he would be allowed the land because he smiled a little as he walked away. 

Arthur realized that he wanted nothing more than to rant to Merlin about this, but how could he ask him to listen to his issues without guilt when he was not entirely honest with him? He would tell him what he’d done as soon as training was over, and he wouldn’t back out of it this time.

 

...

 

Elaine circled around Merlin, who followed her with his eyes, pupils blown wide. She put her hand on his shoulder, finally meeting his gaze. They were in his and Arthur’s chambers now, awaiting the king's presence. “So you know what I need of you?” she asked. 

Merlin nodded. “I must betray Arthur,” he said, not missing a beat.  _ He must do what she says. He must please her. She is the very reason for his existence. _

“And what will you tell him?” Elaine asked. Merlin clicked his tongue, smiling darkly at his gorgeous mistress.

“That I have never loved him. My heart belongs to you, my lady.”

Elaine grinned, mirroring Merlin’s look of evil, and patted Merlin on the head. “Very good,” she said. “Cyrus will alert us when Arthur is on his way. It shouldn't be long now.” She turned her back on Merlin and moved to sit at the little wooden table, crossing her legs and folding her arms. Merlin watched her— _ god, she's beautiful. _

 

…

 

Arthur was walking down the hallway, his resolve set. This was his husband he was going to tell, not some random stranger. He could trust him, even if it would hurt him. And he couldn’t go on keeping all these secrets. He had to tell Merlin. 

Cyrus, who was standing out in the hallway, saw Arthur turn the corner in the direction of his chambers. He rushed through the servant’s door, poking his head into the chambers he had been working in lately. “Lady Elaine, the king is on his way,” he announced. “He will be in here any minute now.” He left the chambers quickly, knowing it wasn’t part of the plan for him to be incriminated with Elaine and Merlin. 

Elaine shot up from her chair, grabbing Merlin and pulling him close to her. “Make it believable,” she said before closing the gap between them, pressing their lips together with forced desperation. Merlin obliged, wrapping his arms around her and pushing her back against the bedpost. 

Elaine slid her tongue against Merlin’s bottom lip, gasping at the force of him pushing her. She clutched his sides, ignoring the growing sound of footsteps and the creak of the opening door.

Arthur steeled himself with the door half-open, and then he walked in, his lips parted to speak. The words nearly spilled over the tip of his tongue— _ Merlin, I need to talk to you _ —when he saw his husband, the love of his life whom he trusted more than anyone else… kissing another person. He was dumbstruck for a long moment, sure that this was fake. It was another nightmare. Merlin  _ wouldn’t  _ betray him like this. 

And yet he was.  _ He  _ was the one pushing  _ the girl _ against the bedpost, and he looked like he was getting into it.

Arthur felt sick to his stomach. He felt like he could run that whore kissing Merlin through right then and there. He felt so many things at once and none of it made sense except for his anger, his blinding anger. 

After a moment, Merlin pushed Elaine away, acting as if he had just noticed Arthur for the first time. He spun around to look at his husband, eyes wide. “Arthur, I—” he started. Feeling Elaine’s fingers wrap around his wrist, he visibly relaxed. He took a breath, looking from the woman he loved, to the man that he used to. “I can explain.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait again! Both of us writers have gone on vacation but we're back now

Arthur’s eyes darted from Merlin to the woman he had been kissing. He vaguely recognized her as Merlin’s apprentice. He couldn’t believe that they had almost made her an official magician of Camelot. No harlot who would kiss his husband ever deserved to have rank in his kingdom. 

But then his gaze finally settled on his lost love, his Merlin. He had been enjoying the kiss. He hadn’t pushed her away; in fact, he had pushed her against a bedpost, something that Arthur had done to Merlin countless times—and against the very same bedpost! The woman wasn’t the only one to blame, but it was easier on his heart to think that it was all her doing. It was easier to stomach that than to think of the fact that his husband had betrayed him. He didn’t know what to feel, sadness and anger and betrayal all swirling around inside him. 

“It better be a damn good explanation,” Arthur said to Merlin, his face stony and hard, his voice even colder. He wouldn’t let him see what he was feeling. He wouldn’t let anyone see it. Merlin had forfeited all rights to his heart, and the rest of the kingdom never had any claim over it. He needed to take control of this situation before he got emotional, and the only way he knew how to do that was with a sword. He drew it out of his scabbard, pointing it more at Elaine than Merlin. “And you had better talk quickly.” 

Merlin took a breath, letting his hand slide to Elaine’s. “Arthur, I didn’t mean for you to find out this way,” he said, glancing quickly at Elaine for approval. “I'm in love with Elaine, I have been since she arrived in Camelot.” He had said it sincerely, but there was no regret or sympathy in his voice. He harbored no emotions for the other man—he  _ despised  _ Arthur.

Arthur frowned a little bit, his heart breaking as Merlin said that. How could he love this other woman? Was Arthur not enough for him? “Why?” he breathed out, feeling suddenly as though if he spoke any louder his voice would break. “I was in love with Guinevere, too, Merlin, but… we’re married. I would never have kissed her. I— Am I not good enough? Do we not spend enough time together? We’re busy, but I could have made time for you.” 

Merlin felt like he suddenly couldn’t help but laugh, and that's what he did. “Did you ever honestly believe that I really loved you? I am Emrys— _ the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth. _ I could do so much better than you, Arthur.” He paused, taking a breath. “You are a man, and so am I. Our entire marriage was a joke, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of  _ you. _ I got what I wanted. I have power now, in name as well, and I can finally show it. I can finally be me, but I can't do that with you.”

Arthur felt like he had been punched in the gut, like all the air had left him and he was struggling to breathe. He wouldn’t allow them to see him getting upset, not truly. Not when the woman was in the room. “I don’t understand,” he said, keeping his voice even despite how badly he wanted to cry, while at the same time wanting to kill Merlin’s apprentice. “Why would you be my servant for years? Why would you… why would you marry me? Why stop Morgana? Why go through all this trouble?” 

“To  _ gain your trust _ , Arthur,” Merlin said. “Isn't it obvious? I wanted power, but—” He looked to Elaine, lovingly. “I found something better. I love her. I don't need anything else, if I have her. Can't you understand that?”

Arthur would never understand how he always managed to care for the people who would betray him. He would never understand why he wasn’t good enough for anyone, no matter how hard he tried. He would never understand why everyone he loved hated him, why he pushed everyone away, why everyone was intent on breaking his heart in some way. 

“The two of you are arrested,” he said. He turned around for a moment, to his slightly-ajar door, and called, “Guards!” Once they came in, he looked to the woman. “You will not stand trial. You will be executed in a few days time.” How he would love to execute her personally. “And you, Merlin, you… I’ll deal with later.” 

Merlin's face twisted in horror, and he squeezed Elaine’s hand before releasing it and advancing towards Arthur. “No! I won't let you harm her!” he screamed, hands up at the ready. Guardsmen grabbed both of his arms and held them behind his back, but he kept struggling. “I won’t let you! I won't! Take me but please— _please_ spare her, Arthur!” The guards pulled him back, but now he was trying to get to Elaine, who had been restrained as well. Oddly, she looked calm, but Merlin was still fighting. “Let her _go!_ ” he screamed one last time, before giving in and allowing the guards to pull him and Elaine both from the room. His eyes fell on Arthur for one moment before he was out of sight. The look of pain on Arthur's face—it almost _hurt_ Merlin. And for a second—just a second—he was confused. _He loved_ _Arthur_ , what was he doing? But then that moment was gone, and his thoughts were of only Elaine.

Gwen had been walking near Arthur's room when he saw Merlin and another woman being pulled away by guards. Confusion swept over her first, but it was soon replaced with worry. She turned into Arthur's room to see him leaning against a table, an unreadable expression on his face. “Arthur? What happened?” she asked, approaching him.

Arthur had just been about to tell whoever it was to leave the room when he heard Gwen’s voice. He wanted to be alone to cry, but he’d been through a lot with Guinevere. He could be emotional in front of her. He could trust her. 

Or could he? Was everyone that he cared about against him? Was everyone ready and waiting to tear him apart?

“Guinevere,” he said softly, turning toward her. His breath was shaky as he forced himself not to cry. “Merlin has been arrested. I… I found him kissing his apprentice.” 

Gwen’s face fell into a look of sympathy as she put her hand on Arthur's shoulder, pulling him into a hug. “Oh, Arthur. I'm sorry, that— that doesn't really sound like Merlin,” she said, a frown forming on her lips. “At all… is there a chance he has been enchanted?”

Arthur had thought about it, just like he’d thought a million other confusing things in the impossibly short time since he found Merlin. It felt like it had been much longer, though he knew he just walked into his chambers not long ago. 

He shook his head as he hugged her back. “He’s too powerful to be enchanted.” He pulled away from the hug and looked down, feeling absolutely miserable. “He told me he never loved me. That… that our marriage is a joke.” 

“Surely Merlin wouldn’t say that…” Gwen said, trying hard to be the optimistic friend she always was. “There must be something, Arthur. Don't give up on him.”

Arthur nodded, running a hand over his face before looking back at his close friend. “I will investigate him. The girl, however, I have sentenced to death,” he said. He didn’t know how to prove that something was going on with Merlin, didn’t know what it could be. Perhaps… He couldn’t even think of an alternative. Perhaps he was enchanted after all.

“Death, Arthur?” Guinevere said after a moment. “Isn't that a bit harsh? She didn't kill anyone…” she trailed off. No, Elaine had not murdered anyone, but what she did—knowingly had an affair with the  _ king’s  _ husband, Arthur's husband—it was unforgivable. She feared the impact it would take on the man. How was he supposed to run a kingdom with a broken heart? Gwen pulled him into a second hug, rubbing his back. 

Arthur hugged her back, grateful for one person being on his side even though Merlin wasn’t. “The only mercy I will afford her is a quick death, and that’s if I’m feeling generous,” he told her, his voice harsh but not cold, not devoid of emotion. He felt like he was on his breaking point. He pulled away from the hug again and wiped at his eyes which were feeling suspiciously damp. “I’ll talk to him. I… I’ll have Rosina come with me. We can determine if he’s been enchanted.” 

Gwen nodded with a sigh, taking a step away from Arthur. “That would be best,” she said. “I believe in him, Merlin is a good man, Arthur.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know that better than anyone.” He let out a breath, trying to think logically. If he focused on Merlin for any time longer than a second, though, his heart took over and all logic vanished. Sadness, hurt, anger—they all took over instead. It would be impossible to know if Merlin was enchanted while he was in this state. “I need to think. Thank you for being here for me, Gwen.” 

Gwen bit her lip but said nothing as she patted Arthur's shoulder and turned to leave. She hated to see Arthur so upset—in fact, she had never seen him like that before, but it made her sick. Arthur was a close friend of hers, in the past she had even possessed romantic feelings for him before Lancelot came along. She had seen many sides of Arthur, but not this one, and it felt like it didn't belong on him. Arthur had always been strong about everything aside from Merlin, and it had to hurt knowing that someone he loved and trusted so much would tear him down in such a way.

 

…

 

After Arthur had had some time on his own to think about all that had happened, he went to the physician’s chambers to retrieve Rosina. Surely they would go down there and she would determine that he was enchanted somehow, that this wasn’t real. Surely things would go back to normal, and the enchantress who had stolen his husband would be executed. 

He knocked on her doors, waiting anxiously for her to come out. Rosina opened the door only seconds later, confusion on her face when she saw the king.

“Sire? Are you ill?” She took a step back, allowing room for Arthur to step into her chambers. Rosina was a young woman, but her face showed signs of years of worrying, and even pain. There were wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and it was visible in her features that she had seen a lot in her years as a physician. He hair was raven colored, with little curls that bounced when she walked. Her eyes were a dark shade of brown, and her pale nose was speckled with freckles. 

After she had invited the king in, she moved over to her large wooden desk to grab a phial filled with pinkish liquid. “Do you need another sleeping draft for your nightmares?” she asked, extending her hand so Arthur could take the potion.

Arthur paused for a moment, knowing that he needed to get down to business, but he also needed the draft. “Yes, actually. Thank you, but that’s not why I came,” he said as he gratefully took the medicine and slipped it away in a pocket. “I came because I fear Merlin has been enchanted, but I can’t tell. He is saying horrible things and has kissed another woman. I don’t believe my husband would do this.” 

Rosina nodded, understanding. She had seen many families torn apart due to magic and enchantments. She had spent a majority of her life studying the art of sorcery, though she didn't practice it often herself. Because of that, she could identify many different forms of enchantments in people, and she could usually reverse it. 

“If Merlin is enchanted, I will do my best to undo it,” she said, “but if he isn't… there is no cure for a change of heart.” Rosina grabbed her spectacles from her desk, putting them on before throwing a bag of basic medical equipment over her shoulder. “Could you take me to him?”

Arthur nodded, keeping faith in his Merlin. He had to be enchanted. He had jumped to conclusions earlier, believing that he wasn’t. They would go to the cells and Rosina would fix this. She could fix him. Things would be okay again.

He began to lead her down to the cells, walking in front of her and not saying much. He didn’t want to talk. He simply wanted Merlin back, wanted his husband at his side again. If he couldn’t have that, his heart would break, and he knew it would. He had many weakest points, and the strongest one was his sorcerer, his love, his Merlin. 

They reached Merlin’s cell and Arthur looked inside at him, looked for any signs of the man he married. 

Merlin had heard them approach, and he looked up to see Arthur and the new physician, Rosina. He had not been locked up for long, but he was already feeling drained, empty. Elaine was being held on the other side of the dungeons, too far for Merlin’s comfort.

_ He needed her.  _

_ He loved her.  _

Seeing the king made his stomach twist in nausea—how dare that villain show his face around Merlin? He scowled, wrapping his hands around the iron chains that bound him to the wall.

Arthur looked away from him, feeling like nothing would be worse than this not being an enchantment. He had to keep his hopes up. He looked to Rosina, away from this wrong version of Merlin. “Do you need in the cell to check him over?” 

Rosina nodded, sympathy written across her face at the sight of both of her kings. “You should give me a moment alone with him, to ask him questions and inspect him,” she said, glancing at Merlin. He definitely didn't look like the king consort that she had come to know.

Arthur nodded and pulled his keys off of his belt, unlocking the cell for her. He didn’t bother to close it in case she needed to get out quickly. Merlin was chained to the wall anyway, the iron shackles numbing his magic so he couldn’t use it. She should be safe unless he tried to physically attack her when she got too close. “I’ll be just around the corner,” he told her, sending one last look at Merlin before walking away. 

Rosina smiled at him lightly before kneeling down next to Merlin, who looked at her coldly. She set her medical bag next to her, shuffling through it in search of a specific phial.

Merlin frowned at the physician, furrowing his eyebrows. “I'm not  _ sick _ , Rosina. What are you doing here?” Merlin had nothing against the woman, she wasn't Arthur. She was not the one who took away the woman he loved and locked him in this filthy cell, so he couldn’t care less for her. Merlin just didn’t want to be examined when there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, especially when Arthur was the one who had ordered it. “Does he think I have some sort of mental affliction? Can he not just accept that I used him?”

Rosina ignored this, wanting to prove as well that Merlin had been enchanted. She didn’t know him as well as Arthur did, but there was undoubtedly something off about the man. He was never this awful, and his kindness had always seemed sincere. Once she pulled the phial out of her bag, she handed it over to Merlin. “Drink this,” she told him. “Please. Just to prove that no enchantments have been placed on you, if you are so certain of that.” 

Merlin sighed, but took the phial from her, his chains rattling as he pulled out the cork. Hesitantly, he raised it to his lips a downed it in one go. Like all of Gaius’s potions had been, it was disgusting, but he swallowed it regardless. He paused for a moment, and when nothing changed, looked back at Rosina. He was annoyed, that was obvious,  but he was also proud. He would get to see the sadness on Arthur's face when he learned that it was all Merlin’s doing.

“It may take a few minutes to take effect,” she said with a frown, having been so sure of this working. Any minute now, she would see the telltale signs of enchantment through the potion. The magic in it should have been working with or against the magic inside him, depending on what kind of spell it was, to make him drowsy and eventually force him asleep. He seemed as awake and alert as ever. She could hardly believe this, though. The consort had actually, legitimately cheated on and used the king. She stood up, taking a step back, before shaking her head and leaving the cell. She would send Arthur back in ten minutes, and by that time he should have been very asleep. 

Arthur looked up at Rosina as she approached him. “What did you do? What did you determine?” he asked her, eagerly waiting for her to tell him that she had found signs of enchantment, and they could begin the work on finding out what kind it was and how to reverse it. 

Rosina looked at him with a frown, tightening her grip on the strap of the medical bag. “I can't be sure yet. You should go back in a few minutes from now. If he is asleep, then we can be sure it was an enchantment. But if not”—she took a breath, looking down. “I'm sorry, Sire. I'm afraid that's all I can do. If he doesn't fall asleep, then he has not been enchanted.” With that, she walked away, leaving Arthur alone.

Arthur bit his lip hard, not wanting to accept what he knew could potentially be true. He didn’t know what he would do if it were. He shook his head and told himself to keep faith, and that it would be best to let the potion take effect rather than to go to Merlin’s cell and keep him awake for longer. He wanted this over with so he could take his husband back to their chambers and they could just cuddle. He wanted to put this behind them. 

After a sufficient amount of time pacing up and down the other side of the cells, Arthur marched to Merlin’s cell, keeping his eyes determinedly in front of him. He turned toward the cell, expecting to see the sorcerer peacefully asleep. 

But he didn’t find that. He found him awake as ever, and something in him shattered to pieces at the knowledge that it was true. His Merlin… he wasn’t under a spell. 

Merlin was staring at him, an eyebrow raised. He grinned. “Disappointed?” he asked, clicking his tongue. Arthur had wanted him to be enchanted, but that simply wasn't the case. Merlin loved Elaine, and hated him, and seeing the king crushed about this only filled him with joy. Oh, Elaine would be so happy to hear.

Arthur felt like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t see his husband like this. Something had to be wrong. Something had to be off about him. He knew that some of his love had been genuine. He would never believe that his love wasn’t genuine at some point. “Why are you doing this? Is someone making you?” he whispered quietly. 

Merlin stared at him for a moment, still grinning. “I'm doing it to see you suffer,” Merlin said, quietly. “I've had to share a bed with you for a year, you have no idea how disgusted I am by that, how disgusted I am by  _ you. _ ” Merlin leaned back against the wall of the cell, not breaking eye contact with the king. “Morgana would have been a far better ruler than you. She is the rightful queen, Arthur Pendragon. Not you and your childish, selfish, disgraceful ways.”

Arthur shook his head and turned away, fleeing back to his room. He needed to be alone to process this. He needed to understand why this was happening, what he had done wrong. He knew that Merlin’s love was real at some point. It  _ had to be. _ Something had happened, though. He had hurt him. Maybe he knew about what he did… 


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur stood before his councilors in his chainmail with a crown atop his head. Technically this wasn’t unlike any other council meeting so he didn’t need to be dressed up, or it didn’t need to be unlike any other meeting. But because Merlin had betrayed him, he had to be dressed up nice to conduct the official ceremony of stripping Merlin of his title rather than get anything done in council.

It was easier to think of the ways that this was inconvenient than it was to think of the ways this hurt.

He stood before the knights and lords of his council and declared that King Merlin no longer held rank in the royal house, that he was no more than a commoner once again. He saw the faces of those who had doubted Merlin shift into those of silent  _ I-told-you-so _ s. After it was done, Arthur swept out of the council chambers, not caring if there was more to be discussed.

 

… 

 

Merlin sat in his cell in silence, listening to the breathing of the guard that stood somewhere near his cell. Every once in awhile, he heard shuffling as they switched shifts, but they never spoke. Merlin tried to think of a way to escape, to blow open the cell door, attack the guard, and rescue his precious Elaine on the other side of the dungeons. His hands, however, were still chained to the walls in iron that bound his magic, so he was unable to help anyone, not even himself. 

He sighed, thinking of everything that had happened over the past year. His memories were clouded, as if it was all a dream, but it was real. It had to be real. He had tricked Arthur into loving him and married him for power. He had never loved the king… but, why did that memory feel so wrong? Elaine came to Camelot, he began to train her. When he started to fall in love with her, all his previous cravings for power dissolved, and he wanted nothing else but Elaine. Yes, that was how it had happened, right? He shook his head of thoughts, looking forward. Lately, he found that it was a lot easier to just not think. Just do what Elaine said, and they would both be happy.

He was playing with the hay on the cell floor, twisting it in his fingers, when he heard his mistress’s voice.

_ Merlin. _

Merlin’s head snapped up, looking around for any sign of the woman. “My love?” he called out. His voice echoed through the dungeons.

_ Merlin, _ she said again. Merlin smiled-of course. She was communicating telepathically. How had he not thought of that before.

“Yes, Elaine?” he replied, in his head this time.

_ We need to get out of here. Cyrus, your old servant, will be able to help us if no other opportunity presents itself, _ Elaine said to Merlin.  _ Just do as I say when the time comes, all right? _

Merlin sighed in relief. His love would save them. She would have a plan. “Alright,” he responded quickly, looking out of his cell as if he could still see her out there somehow. “Just tell me what to do, and I will do it.” He thought for a moment before adding, “The king, he came to visit. Along with the physician.”

_ Why? What did they come to do?  _ she asked him, concerned that they may have found the fomorroh. If they had, this was all over, and the Lady Morgana’s plan was ruined.  _ What did they say? Tell me everything, Merlin. _

“She gave a potion, said that if I was under an enchantment it would put me to sleep,” he said. “Then she left. Arthur came back a few minutes later and was disappointed to find me still awake.” Merlin remembered to look on Arthur's face—oh, how pathetic that man was.

_ Right. Good, as long as they found nothing,  _ Elaine said, though it still worried her that they thought he was enchanted. She knew that it would come, but she had held onto an unrealistic hope that they wouldn’t think of it.  _ If they believe you’re enchanted, you might not be acting the part well enough. Arthur believes you’ve always been a good man, and in his eyes, you’re doing the opposite of what a good man would do. So you must act more like the man Arthur knows. _

Merlin thought about this before nodding, even though Elaine couldn’t see him. “You're right, I've been foolish. I will not make the same mistake again.”

_ As long as you convince Arthur from now on, we will be all right, _ she said. 

Merlin stared at the cell door, deep in thought, or at least as deep as he was able to be. If more deceit would make Elaine happy, than Merlin could think of nothing he'd rather do. He would leave the king of Camelot broken, believing he had lost everything. Oh, Merlin would put on a show.

 

…

 

After the ceremony, Arthur made his way down to the dungeons. He didn’t want to do this, but he knew that if Merlin really wasn’t enchanted, he couldn’t be allowed to continue to be the king. He still held hope that this was all somehow fake, that his Merlin was still in there. But until that was proven true, this was the course of action that he would be forced to take. 

He went down to the cells and stopped before Merlin’s, bracing himself for more words that would undoubtedly hurt him. “Merlin,” he said in a voice that was far too formal to just be talking to his husband; he hadn’t spoken to him with this voice for years—if he ever had. 

Merlin stared at him from behind the bars of the cell, feigning emptiness. “Arthur,” he said quietly. It wasn't just an act, he really did feel drained, but he wasn't sure why. Of course, he remembered what Elaine had told him about putting on a more believable act, and he obliged. “Please just let us go.”

Arthur looked at him for a long moment, considering the man that he cared for so much. “You will be free to go, but you've been stripped of your title as my consort,” he said, his tone dead, mechanical. Detached. His face softened after a moment of thinking about all the time they had spent together, all that time he thought Merlin was happy. “Did you ever care about me?” He couldn't imagine that it had all been an act.

Merlin looked at him, understanding. “There were times when…” Merlin remembered their years spent together, the joy that had  _ definitely not _ been faked, but that was lost to him now. The words felt wrong on his tongue, but he felt obligated to say them. He had to make Elaine happy. “…when  I thought for a moment that we could be friends, but I never really cared for you, no,” he said, voice low and almost monotonous. “Thank you, Arthur. For letting us go.”

Arthur looked away from him for a long moment before nodding tightly. “I don’t want to see you anymore, Merlin.” This was an order, not a request. Seeing this man would only serve to hurt himself. It would be like he was tearing at a wound that wouldn’t heal every time. “I want you out of this castle. You may live in Camelot, but you won’t be a servant anymore. You’re banned from the castle unless it’s under emergency circumstances.”

With that, he turned away from his husband. His ex-husband. He shook that thought away and marched out like he was as mindless as the soldiers seemed to be when he ordered them through training. He wouldn’t show any of the emotions he was feeling. None of it. None of the sadness, the uncertainty, the disbelief that Merlin had never loved him. 

How could he not have? There were times when he killed people for Arthur, when he nearly killed himself—and seemed perfectly happy to die—for the king. 

Merlin watched as Arthur walked away, once again not understanding why there was a deep pain in his chest, why he felt like he could break down into a heap of sadness and actually  _ cry _ over—what? The pathetic King of Camelot  _ divorcing him _ ? Merlin took a breath, shaking his head just as he heard the doors rattling again, and two guards stepped into his cell.

He looked up at them, and one leaned down to unlock Merlin's shackles. Merlin knew this guard—Sebastian, he believed his name was. He had started working in the castle only days after Merlin had been made consort. He had always seemed to look up to and respect Merlin, always calling him  _ sire _ and  _ my lord _ , and treating him like a true noble. Only now, Sebastian seemed stern and authoritative, as if Merlin was a common criminal. Merlin supposed he was.

When the shackles fell to the floor, Merlin rubbed his sore, red wrists, only for a moment before both guards were roughly grabbing him and yanking him onto his feet.

“Oy!” he said, shaking free. “I can walk for myself.”

The guards exchanged glances before Sebastian said, “My lor—  _ Merlin, _ the king has instructed us to escort you out of the castle, where you are to leave and never return.”

“Did Arthur instruct you to  _ drag  _ me there, or can I walk on my own?” Merlin asked, folding his arms. 

Sebastian nodded in hesitant agreement before gesturing ahead of them. “Let's walk, then. But don't try anything funny.”

Merlin sighed, turning towards the exit, with both guards following him uncomfortably close behind, before— _ oh _ . He turned back towards Sebastian. “What about Elaine?” 

Sebastian shook his head. “She is not to leave the dungeons. The king has not yet decided what to do with her.”

Merlin’s stomach dropped. Elaine would not be released? Was that part of the plan? What would he do without her? Would she—?

_ Merlin. _

Merlin startled at Elaine's voice within his head.

_ It's alright, go with them. Cyrus will be waiting for you in the Darkling woods. _

Merlin looked around. Outside of his cell, he could see her just a little ways down, staring at him from behind bars. She too had been chained to the wall with iron shackles, but she did not look upset. In fact, she looked strangely pleased.

Ah, yes. His mistress did have a plan. She was very clever indeed.

 

…

 

Guinevere watched from her window as Merlin was escorted away. It made her sick to see her dear friend this way—that couldn't  _ truly _ be Merlin, not unless he was under some dark enchantment. Merlin was just too kindhearted, too selfless, and too  _ in love with Arthur _ , to ever do something like this. To ever betray him. Chewing on her lip, she stepped away from the window just as Merlin and the guards disappeared through the gates, and she turned towards Lancelot. 

Lancelot couldn’t bear to watch Merlin be taken away from the castle he had come to call home since he moved to Camelot. He couldn’t bear to think that everything he’d seen out of Merlin, all that love and compassion, was fake. In fact, he knew that it wasn’t. He knew that something must have been up, but whatever it was, it must have been serious if Arthur actually believed that Merlin didn’t love him. Then again, Arthur was very insecure, especially about the people he loved the most. 

“Have they taken him yet?” he asked his wife quietly as she turned her gaze to him. 

Guinevere nodded, sitting down across from Lancelot on the bed. “He isn't himself. I've never even heard of Elaine, and Merlin would have at least mentioned her if he cared this much about her.” She shook her head sadly. “Everything about this is so wrong.”

Lancelot nodded in agreement. He had heard of Lady Elaine before she came back to Camelot this time, but he supposed that that was a conversation for another time. Right now he was worried about Merlin. “Does Arthur really believe these things that Merlin is saying to him?” he asked.  

She shrugged halfheartedly. “Arthur has been betrayed by many people that he's trusted. This is a very different situation, but he probably thinks it's the same,” she said. “He’s heartbroken.”

Lancelot nodded. “I just can’t imagine the two of them not being together,” he said. His eyes went to his wife, and he knew that he would be torn apart if the two of them ever broke up. He didn’t know exactly how Arthur was feeling, but he could sympathize, and he could attempt to empathize. He just wished that he would get some sense. Merlin was the only one that could ever knock it into him, though, which was extremely inconvenient in this situation. 

**Author's Note:**

> The first story: Morgana puts a truth spell on Merlin and Arthur. Merlin's magic is revealed and they get together. Uther banishes Merlin when he finds out. Arthur puts Morgana under the truth spell as well, though, and she reveals to Uther that she's a sorceress. So before Merlin can leave Camelot, Morgana kills him. She also kills Gaius before escaping. Merlin and Arthur get married. Woo the end.


End file.
